Baking with Prussia
by erbby17
Summary: All Germany wanted to do was bake a delicious chocolate treat, but Prussia's "baking" advice proves to be less than helpful. For fanfaluche, meinbruder Fanworks Exchange. M for messy, messy boy love.


_A/N: My submission for LJ's "meinbruder" Summer Fanworks Exchange, for fanfaluche, who requesting Germany baking and Prussia offering "help", of some sort. So. This literally turned into nothing more than smut, and I hope they don't mind. I mean, I don't think they will, but yeah. Heh heh. I own nothing and as I said, SMUT. All over the place. Yup. ENJOY!_

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Every month, Germany would get together with Italy, Austria, and some other choice nations for a simple get-together. It was nothing big, nothing fancy, nothing business related; just a nice luncheon at someone's home with sweets and drinks and other such relaxing touches. This month, Italy was hosting, and Germany decided to bake some brownies for the occasion, a treat America had brought the one (and only) time he had attended the normally European event. It was an experiment, really, and the only good thing about the boisterous nation's attendance was the decadent chocolate treat. So, Germany decided to take on the task of making them himself.

"Whatchya doin'?"

Germany was in the kitchen, stove on preheat and ingredients mixing in his bowl, when he heard Prussia outside the kitchen doorway. Trying his best not to give the ex-nation the much desired attention, Germany was simple with this answer. "Making brownies for Italy's gathering later," he said curtly.

Prussia laughed, stepping inside and lurking over his younger brother's shoulder. "Brownies, huh? You know, I've got something upstairs from the Netherlands if you want to make them _really_ _special_," he said with a smirk.

"_Bruder_," he responded sternly, his patience thinning already. "If you're not going to offer any useful advice, I'd prefer it if you left me alone to my baking."

A dangerous pout spread across Prussia's face, his look near pathetic. "I was just trying to make it more fun, West," he said, leaning against the counter and staring at the mixing bowl. After numerous moments of silence, Prussia leaned over with an unhealthy smirk, intruding Germany's hard work. "I know how we can make this fun…"

Rolling his eyes, Germany shifted the bowl down the counter, avoiding his brother at any costs. "I don't want to have fun. I want to make these brownies. Now please, leave."

"No. I live here, too, West. And I request that every time you bake, you wear nothing but a frilly little apron."

"_Bruder_!"

Prussia's laugh echoed throughout the kitchen, his face resembling that of a wild hyena. "I'll leave you alone if you do it for me, West."

Groaning, Germany simply stared at his brother. "And I take it you just have this apron lying around?"

|.|.|.|

Unfortunately, taking off his clothes and donning the apron (which magically appeared from Prussia's closet) was not enough to shoo Germany's elder brother from the kitchen. In fact, it did quite the opposite; Germany couldn't trust that carnivorous smirk on his brother's face.

Germany didn't take time to wonder how he got up on the counter, or when his brother's head disappeared under the frilly apron. The white-haired, ex-nation had a sick sense of humor, all at the well-built man's expense. Of course, at times like these, Germany had to play along, no matter how embarrassing it may be; as hard as it was to admit, he rather enjoyed these types of things with his brother.

"_B-bruder_, please stop," he barely choked out, Prussia's tongue examining the curvature of his younger brother's abs. His head slowly slipped back, the slight brushing of cloth against his trembling cock all too much for his already broken composure to handle. "_Bruder_, I s-said… a-ah!"

Prussia smirked, his hand ghosting over Germany's ass with two dry fingers pushed inside. "I'm sorry, what was that West?" Slipping them out slowly, Prussia leaned over towards the batter, slowly swirling his fingers in the sticky substance. "This will taste so much better with a little bit of you in there," he said, bringing his fingers back and caressing down Germany's spine until back at his entrance. More delicately than before, Prussia slipped his fingers in, coating the blonde's inner walls with confectionary splendor.

A shiver crawled up Germany's spine, the chill of the batter making his toes curl against the cabinets.

Prussia knew exactly where to go, a third finger joining in the search party for Germany's special spot. "Oh, someone's getting greedy, West; I love how tight you are, I can barely contain myself," he cackled, stroking and stretching, the thickness of the batter dripping off onto the counter and sliding down the cabinet doors. "I'll have to clean that up later," Prussia added softly before unsheathing his fingers and licking up Germany's work from before. "Tasty."

Germany's cheeks suffered a dusting of blush, his body much too eager and his mind much too prude.

"Wanna try?"

And before he could think, a batter-filled kissed pinned Germany to the counter, his fresh erection begging for attention. He could taste the small clumps of flour, not fully mixed in with the rest of the ingredients, melt on their tongues. Prussia's damp fingers glided randomly over his flesh, his muscles trembling over their touch and his voice cracking in moans. He felt that smirk over his lips, and without notice, Prussia's freshly batter coated hand was on Germany's cock.

"_B-bruder_!" Germany moaned out of the kiss, spotting the stains coming through that all-too-delicate apron; why did he ever agree to put it on?

Prussia's fingers went to work, coating every inch of Germany with the chocolate batter. "What," he said through a smirk, his free hand tearing the apron off his brother's form. "Make some room up there, West, I'm getting hungry."

Pushing the blonde down onto the counter, Prussia climbed up and over Germany's body, his fingers drawing batter-designs from his crotch, up his stomach. Swirls and hearts and other, cruder, drawings slowly started to decorate Germany's body, Prussia's latest design ending at the edge of Germany's lips. "You look so yummy," he whispered, his own clothing ripping from his body and falling to the floor.

Germany wondered how there was enough room for them, until his mind was shot with the shock of Prussia's mouth following the drawings from lips to cock. He shut his eyes tight, the trails of batter turning into little red spots and marks tickling his whole torso. Trying to grip the counter for sturdier support, the German nation's hand instead knocked into the mixing bowl, its entire contents spreading on the counter.

"Aw, come on, West, stop making such a mess," Prussia joked, his mouth puckered at the tip of Germany's cock. Slowly, he bore down upon his brother, his tongue lapping up the dripping batter below the barrier of his lips.

Slipping on the counter, Germany bit down hard on his bottom lip, trying to suppress a moan of any sort. Of course, the re-entrance of Prussia's fingers, picking up more lubrication from the counter on their journey back, broke Germany's composure. He fell back upon the messy counter, his back arching up for a deep groan of pleasure.

Prussia crawled up, his face dripping with batter, among other substances. "Enjoying yourself?"

Germany simply nodded, not having the energy to even listen. An arm and leg of his dangled off the counter, but Prussia held them gently in his hands and spun his brother over. There seemed to be even less room on the counter, belly-side down and now completely covered in the brownie batter. He glanced back, Prussia's head out of view as a slick tongue began lapping up Germany's covered back.

Prussia's tongue followed the curve down Germany's spine, only to lift from flesh once reaching his destination.

There was very little warning except Prussia's vanishing tongue, and the silver-haired nation sheathed himself completely within Germany. Letting out a lengthy moan, Germany knocked the emptied mixing bowl ever onto the floor. _Well, there goes baking something for Italy's get-together_, he thought, before Prussia slipped out and slammed back in again.

"G-gah, _Bruder_," he cried out, catching some batter on his lips and gripping the edge of the counter so not to slip off. Prussia's building rhythm swirled up from Germany's raised hips and throbbed in his mind. This was certainly something Germany would never think of doing; the messy state in which the kitchen lay was unthinkable, but that was exactly what Germany could not do: think. Before long, his entire mind was consumed by Prussia, deep inside, his hand tight on his cock, and the chilling feel of the batter on his warm, damp skin. "_B-bruder_, I'm…a-almost ahhh!"

"Y-yeah," Prussia said between grunts, "m-me too, West."

The force of Prussia's thrusting hips had moved the two to the edge of the sink, chocolate dripping onto dirty dishes. Germany's other hand reached for anything, tightly gripping the faucet as his body neared sweet release. Filled to the brim with Prussia, the fricative force of his thrusts, his prostate being hit like a bulls-eye over and over; it was getting hard to breath, one side of his face covered in the chocolate mixture, and before long, both of them had added to the kitchen's mess.

Half of Germany's spent body dangled limply from the counter. His eyes could barely stay open, but one quick glance backwards introduced him to the sight of Prussia's dopey smile, his arms stretching to wrap around Germany. The blonde's lip twitch, and seconds later, he pushed his brother off his body.

With a thud and a groan, Prussia glared up at the counter, a severe pout on his face. "The hell, West? I just wanted to cuddle."

"The kitchen counter is no place to cuddle, Bruder," Germany said past a bright red blush, sliding off the counter and hobbling towards the door. "I'll just have to stop by the bakery on my way to Italy's. Thanks for your _help_. Now, could you at least turn off the stove for me?"

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Shower," Germany said, continuing his awkward walk towards the stairs.

Germany should have expected this, Prussia's body quickly joining him up the stairs, his hands draped over his shoulders. The walk upstairs was difficult enough, but Prussia's whispering voice tickled his messy ear, offering him a proposition he couldn't stomach to refuse.

"Can I join?"

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_Thank you for reading! :D_

_**~erbby**_


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